


Humble Bones

by Babble bird (HolySolstice)



Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Multi, People are weird, The Gentry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-08 14:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11083137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolySolstice/pseuds/Babble%20bird
Summary: Teeth scraping against bones, bloodied lips, not your blood, not your lips.You catch her eye one foggy day. You feel her staring at you from across the lecture hall, the hair on the back of your neck prickling in warning.Sometimes people are just weird people.... sometimes they're something else





	1. Chapter 1

Teeth scraping against bones, bloodied lips, not your blood, not your lips.  
You catch her eye one foggy day. You feel her staring at you from across the lecture hall, the hair on the back of your neck prickling in warning, you stare ahead at the professor ( and that's dangerous too, staring at anything, at anyone is dangerous) and when class ends you're the first out the door. You ask to stay the night in a friends dorm, they laugh and shake their head and they laugh and laugh. Tears run down their face, it must be from the laughter you think, they shake their head, still laughing, still crying.  
You pat them on the shoulder, smile.  
"It's okay, I'll just stay at mine." You say gently. They nod gratefully, their sobs shaking their body. After that you never see them again, after that you find someone else sitting next to you in class, you've never met this person, they insist you have. You stop trying to convince them.  
You decorate your dorm room with salt and hazel branches, salt crystals interspersed with iron rings hang about your bed, are wrapped around your wrist, your neck. Your roommate says nothing, but she knows, you know that she knows; she mourns you, brings you flowers, hugs you gently and whispers 'I'm sorry.' You both pretend not to know what she's sorry for, you both pretend that you are not already as good as dead. But then a week, 2 weeks, a month passes. Nothing happens, you remain as you are.  
The next time you encounter her is the first time you see her. She is tall and feral, her eyes black and her teeth sharp, her hair wild and curly. She tells you her name: holds out her hand and hisses it as if she's out of breath.  
" Wolf." She says, her raspy, quiet voice soothes you, calms you enough that you take her hand and shake it, firmly, confidently.  
"Spiders." Your voice shakes, your heart races, you feel sick. She stares at you, wonderingly, hungrily. You avert your eyes, take back your hand, you can't breathe.  
" You-your Name, it fits you." You stutter and it feels like something is sitting in your throat, like someone is choking you to death, you smile. Wolf smiles back at you and it's vicious and false and _Wrong _, your breath catches in your thought and your mind screams at you to run, to flee. You blink and when you look up again she is gone. Leaves behind only the taste of blood in your mouth( not your blood, it's sweet and you find yourself savouring it), the mildewy smell of a forest, and the feeling that you've lost something very precious( it's like longing, bitter and quiet). You get the hell out of there as fast as you can, tripping over your own running feet in your haste.__


	2. A Nimble mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been three days

Three days later you find yourself in Library. Clammy hands (your hands) coated with dust, cheeks wet with tears, eyes bright with unwanted knowledge, shoulders heavy with necessary burdens. Three days later you find her in the library, three days later she finds you. She finds you at a table in a quiet corner of the reference section, a corner lined with books,at a table made of hazel and held together with iron screws and washers; She finds you, with her dark eyes and her wild hair, she finds you and you find yourself wishing you'd picked a different place to sit. You feel sick, almost missing. As you stare at her (even though you shouldn't, even though the blurred words in your text book are frantically telling you to run) she smiles wide and sharp and dangerous, a vague warning, or maybe an invitation. 

"Good morning." Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but you know she hears you loud and clear. 

"It's afternoon." Wolf tips her head at you, something like curiosity twinkling in her dark eyes the way the moon lights the ripples in on the campus lake, and you find yourself shrinking back into your chair. She leans forward, plants her hands on either side of your book, your heart beats a little faster and you're not quite sure why you don't jump out the nearest window. You smile. 

"Watchfulness is not always a virtue." Wolf says suddenly, and as she straightens up you can almost see little canine ears perked in alarm. You open your mouth to reply but she's already gone, the only memento of her presence are the nail marks (claw marks) she's gouged into the wood. 

That night you dream of rain; thrumming, thrumming, thrumming like the gentle gallop of horses, a wrinkled hand touching your cheek, a cooling comfort in the too warm confines of your grandmother's cabin, the whistle of the wind drowns out her voice and as you strain to hear you remember: Your grandmother's eyes were never green. 

It's only then that you feel the water around your ankles, seeping into your socks, freezing your toes; it's only then that awareness returns to you, but like many things realized in hindsight, it's too little, too late. It's hands, tiny and thin, find your wrists, curling gently about them. Faintly you wonder if this is the end for you, you wonder if anyone out there will cry for you, or even miss you at all. It should've been the end, but even fate has it's games. There's a scream (not yours) and the air thickens with black mist, it chokes you, holds you in place until firm, weathered hands tear you away, hold you close against warm heaving skin. 

You can't help it.... you sleep


End file.
